


to start at the end

by boxysmiles



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, But the focus is on the civilians and aftermath of fights, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Jaemin's soulmate is unnamed and the fic is set after their death, M/M, Na Jaemin-centric, brief mentions of injuries and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxysmiles/pseuds/boxysmiles
Summary: Jaemin meets his soulmate for the first time, only to lose him in the same hour.It's hard to mourn for someone you barely knew.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Na Jaemin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 60
Collections: Challenge #3 — soulmates





	to start at the end

**Author's Note:**

> this is a kind of... personal take on grieving/mourning someone you hardly know, and the guilt that comes with that. it's a feeling and experience i've grappled with a long, long time.
> 
> If you missed it in the tags: Jaemin's soulmate goes unnamed (so place whoever you like there), but they do pass before the fic starts.

Johnny takes him out to coffee three days after it happens.

“I can’t force you to use your leave,” he says to Jaemin, voice soft and careful, just as everyone has been speaking to Jaemin since it happened. “But I’m going to strongly recommend it.”

Johnny likely senses Jaemin is about to dispute it, because he continues before Jaemin can interrupt. "Jaemin, you still haven't put in for _any_ time off this week. There's specific plans you can use for rostered time off, and you haven't used them."

"I've got plenty of sick days," Jaemin replies, because he's barely taken any since starting at the hospital.

"You don't need to use them. You can use the ones in place for soulmates. There's specialised leave, as you probably know, for when you meet them, and..."

"When you lose them," Jaemin fills in for him. Johnny wilts a little, shoulders hunching over his coffee for just a second, like he's remembering the exact moment of it all.

Jaemin knows the feeling of it well. After all, that moment is all he's been thinking about for the past three days. He's unable to escape the memory of the person beneath him lying on the hospital bed, Jaemin's chest burning as the words inscribed across it were spoken for the first time to him.

The words that have been there since the moment Jaemin was born. The words signifying the person that had spoken them was his soulmate.

The soulmate that Jaemin had met and then lost, all within the same hour.

Johnny takes a deep breath, straightening up. He's purposely showing no sign of pity, no sign of the weakness that had just hunched him over.

"Yes. In your case, you can use both together, and get about two weeks paid leave. It's not a lot, but I'll do my best to make sure any further requests you have are approved," Johnny sounds a lot more steady now, a lot more professional. Trying to keep things at a distance, most likely for Jaemin's sake.

Honestly, Jaemin hasn't felt real these past three days. It's like his mind is stuck in some other reality while his body continues forward, and he has no idea how to connect the two of them together again.

"I didn't know him," Jaemin says, because everything seems — too much. Too excessive.

Here Johnny is, sitting him down for a coffee. Explaining how he can get paid time off for someone Jaemin knew for all of twenty one minutes.

Johnny gives him a very small, sad smile.

"There's services available, if you want them. Resources, counsellors... Whatever you might need," Johnny says, instead of properly answering Jaemin. "And whenever you might need them. So think about it, okay?"

It's easier for Jaemin to just agree, so he wraps his hand around his coffee mug, and says "Okay. I'll think about it."

It seems to ease some of the tension from Johnny's shoulders, which is a good enough sign for Jaemin that he said the right thing, even if he's lying.

* * *

Jaemin takes the time off.

It's mostly so he doesn't need to deal with all the pitying looks and conversations. Mostly so that he doesn't need to see Johnny's shoulders get heavier.

His request is approved surprisingly quickly, and he's put on leave for the next two weeks without a problem. Guilt has been sitting under his skin ever since.

Two weeks, all because of his soulmate.

Two weeks, all because of twenty one minutes they had together.

He's three days into his leave, sitting in his apartment and eating a meal he got at the convenience store. His parents are coming tomorrow, now that Jaemin has the approved time off, and they're insistent on seeing him since they couldn't make it for the funeral.

Jaemin had already felt like an intruder at the funeral on his own. He doesn't think having his parents there would have actually helped, so he's almost glad they couldn't make it.

The variety show he'd been mindlessly watching switches over to the news, and he isn't bothered to change the channel. He has barely been on social media, hasn't seen any news, and figures he probably needs to catch up.

And it's not like Jaemin doesn't _know_ the first-hand damage caused by superpowered humans.

It's not like Jaemin hasn't worked so many shifts at the hospital, seeing innocent people caught up in deathly destruction. Like he hasn't held them together with his hands, like he hasn't held them when they took their final breaths—

Like his own _soulmate_ wasn't just one of many.

So he knows all about it. He's seen it on the news, seen it in the hospital, seen it on the streets too many times.

However, there's a sickening feeling rising in his stomach as he listens to the reporters. Listens as to how there's two streets blocked off. Eight reported injured and one dead on scene, but the villain has finally been apprehended.

Jaemin realises, with a horrifying lurch, it's the same one involved on _that_ day. The same villain that gravely injured fifteen, two who never even made it to the hospital, and five that passed away, one of which being—

Jaemin hurriedly turns off the television, placing his meal down on the table and just tries to hold on to reality. He's heaving, like the guilt and the confusion have finally worked up from his stomach and are trying to escape, clawing their way up his throat. Escape from the images on the television; the sight of the streets, the quick shot of the ambulances escorting patients—

The memories of Jaemin standing beside a gurney. Besides a patient, the realisation as they asked " _is the little girl okay? Did I save her in time?"_

His chest burns, like the words inked into his skin are being said all over again. The memory has him clench down white-knuckled on his couch, trying to remind himself to _breathe._

It takes a while to pull himself out of the spiral. Too long to ground himself back down and remember what's around him.

He checks his phone with shaking fingers, and sees a few texts from his friends. The most recent message, however, is someone reaching out on one of his socials.

_**Hi, this is Donghyuck. I'm not sure if you remember me, but we met at the funeral. This might sound strange, but I was wondering if you'd like to meet up? I have a couple of things I'd like to talk about.** _

The entire funeral is all too sharp in Jaemin's mind, overly aware of every second he spent there. He remembers Donghyuck — one face of many who came up to him, after they realised who Jaemin was.

His soulmate.

And Jaemin could understand it, when everyone looked at him.

They looked at Jaemin, and all they could see was what was meant to be. What, and with _who,_ everything should have been.

Donghyuck was no exception to that, but his gaze was especially piercing at the time. Especially saddened, and Jaemin got to understand why.

There were so many photos of Donghyuck with Jaemin's soulmate, and a speech that had Jaemin on the brink of breaking down amongst his soulmate's family and friends. So many memories, a friendship that's clearly lasted strongly through the years.

Donghyuck looked at him, and likely saw everything that was _supposed_ to be. Likely knew everything that could have been, would have been.

He owes it to Donghyuck, he figures. If Donghyuck has things he wants to talk about, the least Jaemin can do is listen.

He replies to his other friends first, then replies to Donghyuck with an agreement, asking when a good time might be.

Donghyuck likely doesn't have the two weeks off work. Donghyuck is his soulmate's closest friend, and here Jaemin is — barely knowing more than his soulmate's name, more than what he saw at the funeral, and reaping two weeks off for it.

It doesn't feel fair, and the guilt claws under his skin viciously.

Donghyuck replies back quickly, and soon enough they've made plans to meet at a cafe in a couple of days. It's close to a park, and Donghyuck suggests sitting there as they talk.

Jaemin figures it's so neither of them feel so entrapped, or burdened by any emotions that may arise as they speak. It'll be easier in public, out in an open space, to let go of those feelings, rather than being mindful of other patrons around them. He's thankful for it.

Jaemin puts the leftovers of his meal away, unfinished and cold from where he discarded it earlier. His parents will likely come with home-cooked meals anyway, but he feels bad for the wasted food.

It's easier to focus on the small things like that — the thought of what meals to eat, when to do his washing, the dishes, rather than thinking about anything else.

It works for the rest of the night, until Jaemin gets into bed.

In Jaemin's career, he's made it a point not to look too heavily into social media. To never pry into his patient's lives online, or go looking further than their name in a public article or in the obituary listings.

It won't do him any good, and he knows it. There's no point in having to see further into their lives, into their loved ones, than what he sees in the hospital.

There's a thought, however. That his soulmate isn't _just_ a patient of his. Not just another victim in the obituary, another name in the list of casualties after a superpowered fight.

He's Jaemin's _soulmate._

Jaemin's already seen more than he does with other patients, anyway. He's been to the funeral. He's listened to his soulmate's best friends talk to him. Has listened to the parents talk about their child in present tense, simply because they couldn't seem to understand that he's gone.

Jaemin knows the name already.

He's easy enough to find. His profiles have likely been searched up many times by the morbidly curious, wanting a glimpse into a boy's life cut too short, a glimpse into the mourning they shouldn't be part of.

And doesn't Jaemin count as that? He shouldn't have any part here. He has no right to mourn beyond his usual capacity he has for patients.

Some patients are certainly harder than others though. Some too young. Some too desperate, some who fought and fought and it still made no difference in the end.

And still, Jaemin has never looked up their profiles on social media.

Yet here he is, his soulmate's name in the search bar, his profile a mere tap away on his phone. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and opens it.

The profile has not changed to a memoriam page, not yet. Jaemin knows they rarely do this soon, with everyone still reeling in shock, still mourning so heavily.

But there's posts. There's photos and captions and all of his soulmate's friends and family on his profile, posting things about his soulmate.

Jaemin has a good idea, from the funeral. Had clung to every word as his soulmate was described as caring, selfless, loyal, incredibly friendly and fun to be around, a positive and energetic friend and son who could always be relied upon.

How he had such a bright future ahead of him, too. A path just waiting to be discovered and walked upon. Opportunities lined up, just waiting for his soulmate to reach out and take them. So many chances and _should have beens._

It's different, seeing it so publicly posted like this. Seeing all the different photos and videos, all the snapshots into his soulmate's life that Jaemin was, and will never be, a part of.

Jaemin was never a part of his life. Not until the final twenty minutes. There are no photos, no videos, nothing to share. Nothing he possibly could say about his soulmate, other than regrets and nothing but fruitless wishes for things to have ended differently.

Nothing other than those twenty minutes Jaemin knew him. Where he was dying and barely conscious, but managed to say things that simply shattered Jaemin's entire core.

Nothing other than the years Jaemin has spent _hoping_ for the day he met his soulmate. Dreams and fantasies of their life together, their life that should have been with both of them until the end.

There's photos posted in memoriam, after it happened. But Jaemin scrolls further, until the days _before,_ when his soulmate was alive. When his friends posted things ranging from funny to warming, all of them just celebrating their friendship. None of them with any idea of what was to come.

Jaemin scrolls too far, sees too many memories — high school graduations, exam periods, late night adventures. It feels intrusive suddenly, and Jaemin locks his phone and places it down.

Something inside of him has felt delicate, moments from breaking, from that very day.

And seeing it all, seeing his soulmate's life like this, makes something shatter.

He doesn't think it's something that can be fixed.

* * *

He meets Donghyuck at the cafe.

It's awkward, the only thing that ties them together being someone that has passed. They both get a drink, and while Jaemin's is full of too much caffeine, Donghyuck doesn't have any.

"I need any help I can to sleep," Donghyuck explains, even though Jaemin doesn't ask. A rueful smile twists his lips, and Jaemin just nods in response with understanding.

As planned, they don't stay in the cafe. They head out to a park, sitting down on the grass.

"So, how have you been holding up?" Donghyuck asks him, like he's concerned for Jaemin. Like Jaemin's worthy of having any rights to _be_ sad.

He doesn't want to unload that on Donghyuck though. So he takes a sip of his drink, and says "As well as I can be. You?"

"Pretty fucking terribly," Donghyuck admits, voice wavering dangerously. Jaemin casts a glance over at him, just to see Donghyuck take a deep breath in and look up, stubbornly refusing to let any tears build.

It's different, Jaemin realises. It's different here, from the funeral, from the social media posts. Jaemin saw his soulmate's life, saw his impact, but there's something very personal here now. Seeing it through just Donghyuck, his soulmate's closest friend. The closest now Jaemin will ever be again to his soulmate.

"But getting through it," Donghyuck continues with, once he's got himself steady enough to speak again.

"Yeah," Jaemin says softly. It's all they can do, really.

"I just... I just wanted to ask," Donghyuck starts, turning to look intensely at Jaemin. "You were there at... at the end, right? Was he... What did he..."

Donghyuck seems to lose his words, his questions muddled with the mess of mourning. Jaemin looks back at him, and Donghyuck's holding on so tightly to his coffee cup Jaemin fears it'll burst.

"His first words to me were asking if a little girl was okay, if he saved her in time," Jaemin replies, hand coming up to touch his chest, fingers resting over the words he's forever left with. The only reminder Jaemin has of his soulmate now.

"Of course," Donghyuck says, voice so brittle, ready to break into a thousand shards. "Of course he was saving someone. Did he... did he manage to..."

"We had no reports of a little girl in our hospital, and there were none in the victim list either," Jaemin confirms, and he sees the emotions that flash over Donghyuck's face. Relief, gratitude, pride, but it's all marred so heavily with grief.

Donghyuck's eyes finally water over, and he ducks as his head as the tears fall. Jaemin has to look up, lips pressing together like a whistle as he tries to work out the clog in his throat.

They sit there for a while, mourning together. Donghyuck, who lost so much. Jaemin, who lost what should have been.

Jaemin wonders if Donghyuck knows what his first words to his soulmate were. He barely remembers them himself — only remembers them in the way he saw them inscribed on his soulmate's chest.

Jaehyun had been the one to answer his soulmate's question, confirming they had no little girl in emergency.

And Jaemin —

Jaemin had said _no, no, you can't be, please, you have to stay with me—_

He had choked up, rambled some more, but those were the words forever on his soulmate's chest. The words he had to carry around to the end, likely an indication things would not end well for them.

Jaemin had been hopeful of his own words on his chest. They weren't a death sentence, not quite.

But Jaemin's soulmate —

"Thank you," Donghyuck says, breaking Jaemin from his thoughts. "For being there. You meant a lot to him."

Jaemin can't stop the tears from falling now, and they sit in stifled silence, both trying to contain their tears, to stop all their grief from spilling out.

Donghyuck pulls it together faster. He puts his drink down, and brings his knees up, properly turning so he's facing Jaemin.

"Would you like to hear some stories? I think he'd like you to know them," Donghyuck offers.

There's still that sense of guilt lingering inside of Jaemin, feeling unworthy of mourning, unworthy for his soulmate. Except Donghyuck is looking at him hopefully, like this might be the thing keeping him together. So Jaemin nods, and finds he does not regret it.

And when Donghyuck speaks, Jaemin starts to realise he didn't just have those twenty minutes with his soulmate.

He's alive here, too. In the stories, the memories of everyone around him. Alive, as long as Jaemin treasures him, treasures the words forever etched on his skin, right over his heart.

A reminder. A promise.

Maybe in the end, maybe in another lifetime. Maybe they'll meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Little Wonder for setting up another round! <3 
> 
> I hit the 3k so quickly so it feels rather,, like a small snippet of many bigger things. My first go at this I had Jaemin's soulmate named and wrote out their death, but this fic has always been about the focus on the weird emotions that come with mourning someone you feel like you don't have a right to. Original notes also included Donghyuck having no soulmate, and I suppose Jaemin and Donghyuck kind of end up together in the end with their combined grief. 
> 
> anyway thank you for reading!! <3 <3


End file.
